


Proud Mary

by mannybothans



Series: Someday Never Comes [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 67 chevy impala, 90s Teens, Dare, F/M, Joyride - Freeform, Other, Pre-Series, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Teen!Dean, Unrequited Crush, mix tape, pre-Season One, teen!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mannybothans/pseuds/mannybothans
Summary: Dean double dog-dares Christa to take John's Impala for a joyride.





	Proud Mary

**October 1995**

“I’m sixteen, dammit!” Dean yelled as he slammed a fist down on the table in their almost-bare apartment.

Sam looked at Christa, trying to hide a smirk, and they both rolled their eyes.

“You know Dad’s never gonna let you go with him if you throw tantrums,” Sam piped up. He was met with a glare from two piercing green eyes.

“Shut it, Sammy, you’re just a kid. You don’t know nothin’.”

Christa glared back at Dean and stood up. “That’s no way to talk to your brother! He has a point, you know. You’re too quick to anger and lash out – it’s reckless.”

Dean mimicked Christa in a high-pitched whiney voice, “It’s reckless.”

“Whatever, you boob. Sam, what else you got for homework?” Christa sat back down on the couch and turned her attention to the youngest Winchester.

“That’s all. Teachers are going light on us since it's a three-day weekend. Thanks for your help, Chris.”

“Anytime, Sammy,” Christa smiled and ruffled his hair.

“It’s _Sam_ ,” he grunted and rushed to fix his hair. Truthfully, Christa was the only one he didn’t mind calling him that. He imagined his mom would’ve called him that, too, and it felt nice hearing a woman say it – even if he did have a massive crush on said woman. He glanced at her and noticed she was biting her lip, the way she did when she was deep in thought. Sam absently licked his own lip and his mind began to wander; he was only thirteen but he had already discovered the art of using his imagination.

“So, anyway. What do we do to kill the time, eh?” Christa asked as she stopped worrying her lip.

Dean rolled his eyes and groaned. “God, I’d rather be anywhere than here babysitting you two.”

Christa’s eyebrow lifted in a challenging gaze. “Excuse me? Babysitting who? I am almost as old as you and Sam’s capable of taking care of himself. Why don’t you take the Impala somewhere, bad boy, so us nerds can hang out without your bitching?”

Sam perked at the thought of Dean making himself scarce. He rarely got to spend time with Christa one-on-one, except when they were sleeping, and he wasn’t sure how much longer that would last what with how his body was reacting to her lately. His face quickly became a mask of indifference, though. Christa only saw him as a younger brother, he assumed, and nothing more. He didn’t want to seem too eager to be alone with her in case it scared her off.

Dean was staring at Christa as if she’d just revealed some amazing secret to him. His face was turning up in a wide grin as he imagined taking the Impala out to pick up chicks. But if he fucked up – if he even so much as got too close to another car, his dad would know and his ass would be grass. His face clouded over almost as quickly as it lit up. “Dad would kill me if anything happened to that car,” he sighed.

“Then don’t let anything happen to it,” Sam muttered.

Christa smirked, having heard him, and gently nudged him. He smirked, too and tried to hide it from Dean.

“What’s so funny over there?” Dean asked, directing his question mostly at Christa.

“Nothing. I just dare you to take the Impala, Dean,” Christa said. She held his gaze steadily, challenging him with her words and her eyes.

“You take it,” Dean fired back. “I double dog-dare you!”

Christa shook her head and Sam’s eyes went wide. He knew Christa was never one to turn down a double dog-dare. She stood and wiped her hands on her overalls. “Keys, please,” she said, grinning toothily at the older Winchester.

Dean smirked back at her and tossed the keys over. “I can’t wait to see my Dad whoop your butt for this,” he said.

“John won’t touch a hair on my head,” Christa retorted. “Let alone my ass.” She closed the distance between her and Dean, getting intimidatingly close to him. She bit her lip as her eyes went from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. Thinking back on their short-lived past, she was immensely glad her first time having sex hadn’t been with him. Still, Dean was a total hottie and Christa found herself wondering if he’d be any good with all the boasting and bragging he did about picking up chicks. He never did have a girl – or woman – on his arm for very long before moving on to the next.

Dean’s nostrils flared at her proximity, breathing in her light perfume and the smell of her skin. It reminded him of when they’d had a thing – how she smelled as he would kiss her neck and lips and put his hands under her shirt. His eyes dropped to her chest; she was much more well-endowed, now, and he’d love to see her naked.

“Eyes up here, Winchester,” Christa snapped, breaking Dean out of his reverie. His gaze lifted and he just gave her a lop-sided grin and stepped back. “See you in a few,” she said and blew Sam a kiss.

Christa was more nervous than when she’d been stalked by a vampire. Her palms were sweaty and she almost dropped the keys when she went to open the driver’s door. She knew Dean would be watching from the window, though, so she took a breath and slid into the driver’s seat. Her hand reached out to adjust the mirrors but she realized if she did, John would instantly know someone had touched his car. He’d probably blame Dean, but still. The thought of Dean taking punishment didn’t sit well with her. So she shoved the key into the ignition and put the massive beast of a car into reverse.

She rolled easily through the parking lot, gently tapping the gas pedal to give her enough gas to get to the stop sign. Her fingers opened and then closed on the steering wheel, again. She’d never driven this car and it was definitely intimidating. But the rumble of the engine came through the seat under her and she imagined the car was saying, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

With a new sense of purpose, she pulled out of the lot and disappeared down the street, the engine roaring.

Dean watched from the window. She sat at the entrance to their lot for quite some time and he thought she’d chickened out. Until she pulled out into the street and the sound of the car’s engine faded into the distance.

 

Christa rolled down the window at a stop light and laughed. She sped around the small town, feeling the wind in her hair and the rumble of the car under her. She felt wild and free – like she was part of the car. She wanted to take it onto the freeway but that was a bit risky, even for her. She did a couple more side streets and then pulled into the apartment complex and parked the car in the same spot she was in.

With a huge smile on her face, she combed her fingers through her wind-tousled hair and jogged up the steps to the apartment.

Her only mistake was that she left the window down.

Dean caught the keys she tossed back to him before she collapsed on the couch in a fit of giggles. “Wow. That car, dude! It’s… wow! Sam, I wish you would’ve come with me. Maybe next time,” she smiled widely at him. Sam felt a blush creep up his cheeks and just smiled innocently back at her. “Alright, let’s order some Chinese!”

The three of them fell asleep on the couch watching late-night MTV, the living room a mess of Chinese food boxes, napkins, and cans of Coke. At some point, Christa woke up and groaned at the crick in her neck. Sam had fallen asleep on her chest and Dean was on the other end, his head back and mouth wide open as he snored. She gently nudged Sam awake and they sleepily climbed into his bed together, Christa getting in first, on her side, and Sam climbed in with her. She curled her body around his, hugging him to her snugly, and Sam closed his eyes against the mental images of things he wished she would do to him.

* * *

 

“Dean! Get your ass out here! NOW.” Christa woke up to John’s bellows. It was a Saturday and she had fully intended on sleeping in as long as she could since Alice didn’t seem to mind her staying with the boys overnight – as long as she slept in Sam’s room and not Dean’s, of course.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and Sam stretched, yawning. “What’s going on?” Christa mumbled. “C’mon, Sammy,” she said as she climbed over him.

Sam grunted, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” He rolled over so his back was to her so she couldn’t see his shorts tenting in the front.

Christa opened the door to Sam’s room and blinked, catching Dean’s boxer-clad form running into the living room as he pulled on jeans. “Yes sir!” He reported in, standing stiff and straight as soon as his jeans were buttoned.

“You know the rules, Dean. No driving the car without my explicit permission!”

Christa’s heart thudded in her chest – how did he know?! She had parked it back where it was and hadn’t touched anything except, _oh God, the window_ , she thought. Closing her eyes and steeling herself against the yelling of John Winchester, Christa tip-toed down the hall towards the living room. She could see Dean’s jaw working as he struggled to find an answer suitable to his dad.

“Shit,” she muttered and appeared behind Dean. “Um, hi John,” she began.

“Hi, Christa. Is Sammy awake yet? Sorry I woke you.”

“Um, yeah, he’s coming out in a second. John? Mr. Winchester?”

“What is it Christa?” His patience was wearing thin as Dean still hadn’t provided an answer and his hard gaze was fixated on his older son, not the girl standing next to him.

“It was me.” Christa said, almost too quietly.

John’s eyes snapped over to her and he studied her. She had found something extremely interesting to look at on the floor. “Excuse me? Repeat yourself,” he demanded. “Louder.”

“It was me. I drove your car,” Christa said, loudly. “Sir.”

Her eyes darted over to Dean and she saw him visibly relax at her admission. He was off the hook.

“Why did you drive my car? Who gave you the key?” John’s eyes went back to Dean and Dean stiffened again.

“No! No, it wasn’t Dean. Truthfully, I took the keys myself after Dean was asleep. I just… I just wanted to drive her around, you know? I’m so sorry, John, Mr. Winchester. It won’t happen again. But this isn’t Dean’s fault, I swear.”

John looked from one kid to another. Dean’s gaze had dropped and his ears were red, which meant Christa was covering for him or he was embarrassed she’d slipped one past him. John expected better from his son if he was ever going to help him on hunts. He needed to be ready at a moment’s notice and his senses finely attuned to any anomaly around him. Christa was chewing her bottom lip and she looked nervous, barely able to make eye contact with him. He decided to believe her.

“Dean, you’re dismissed. Go get dressed and get your brother out of bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean replied and turned on his heel like a soldier. His green eyes, full of what Christa thought was pity and relief, briefly met her blue eyes and then he was down the hall and in his room.

John sighed and rubbed his chin. “Look, Christa. I know you and Alice lead different lives from us, but it’s important that whenever you’re under my roof, you follow my rules. Understood?”

“Understood.” Oh, how Christa wanted to look John in the eyes and tell him his oldest son double dog-dared her to take his precious Impala on a joy ride. But she bit her tongue, knowing Dean’s lashing would be far worse than anything John would do to her. “I’m ready to accept my punishment.” She folded her hands behind her back and lifted her chin to look John in the eyes. What she saw surprised her – it wasn’t anger but more like a soft disappointment.

“You also need to learn to control your impulses, if you’re going to be a hunter someday,” John said quietly. Maybe he felt pity for her since her dad was killed when she was still just a young girl but he decided that her punishment would be one simple thing. “And if you’re going to take someone else’s car, make sure you return it in the same-as or better condition. You will be washing my Impala today, Christa. Buckets, soap, and sponges are under the sink and there’s a hose out front. When you’re done washing her to a shine, I will teach you how to wax. It’s important you know how to take care of things, as well as taking care of yourself.”

“Yes, sir,” Christa said. She could almost laugh with relief. Wash the car?! Yeah, okay. No biggie

“Alice will pick you up, take you to the motel so you can change your clothes, and then she’s going to bring you right back here. You’ll start immediately.” He noticed the change in her stance and almost smirked at how happy she looked but he kept a stern, straight face.

“Yes, sir.” At that moment, a car honk alerted the both of them to her mother’s arrival. She flashed John a quick smile and hurried out the door with her small pack. She jumped into the car with her mom, all smiles.

Alice sighed. “Honey, you know John is letting you off easy, right?”

“I know, Mom! Let’s just go so I can get this over with. What’s for breakfast?” Her mom handed her a bag of fast food. Christa frowned. “Seriously? We can’t stop for pancakes?”

“We are on John Winchester’s time, Chris. You will eat or go hungry. I highly suggest eating. That’s a very big car you have to detail.”

Christa sulked and opened the bag, digging out a biscuit. Maybe this punishment was going to be worse than she expected.

It was early October and fairly chilly outside, but Christa knew she’d be laboring in the sun most of the day, so she put on a plain tee with an older pair of jeans and brought a light jacket, just in case.

The first half hour of car washing passed without incident. It wasn’t until John lumbered down the steps to watch her and started pointing out her mistakes, flaws, and missed areas that it really became a chore. Christa went back over places she’d already washed and tried not to look as insolent as she felt. After a few more pointers, she got the hang of how John wanted his car washed and he retreated inside. Christa wished she’d remembered her Walk-Man.

As if he’d read her mind, Sam appeared at the foot of the steps and watched her for several seconds before he came up to her. “Uh, I brought you this,” he said and handed over his own Walk-Man. “It’s got a mix tape in there right now but I can bring you something different later, if you want.”

Christa beamed down at him and leaned down to hug him. “You’re the best, Sam! What are you up to, today?”

He shrugged. “Reading. Not much for us to do on the weekends. I guess Dad is going to go play poker tonight so we can pay bills.”

Christa made a non-committal humming noise as she put the headphones around her neck. “Doesn’t John know there are paying jobs that don’t require him to hustle? He could make an honest living.”

Sam smiled ruefully, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That’s what I said but Dean said I was being a baby.”

“You’re not a baby, Sam. You’re a growing boy – almost a man. Surprised you don’t have a girlfriend, yet.” Christa absently fixed some of Sam’s hair that was blown up by the wind.

His cheeks turned a deep shade of pink and he stared at the ground. “Yeah, well,” his voice cracked, “not many girls want a nerd like me.”

“Yet,” Christa added. “Because they don’t know what they’re missin’, bud. A smart guy who’s got good looks and isn’t full of himself? You know, if you weren’t four years younger than me,” she trailed off and shrugged. “Who knows?”

Sam’s face turned even redder. “Y-yeah, who knows,” he tried to laugh but it came out sounding forced. “I-I should go back in-inside,” he stammered and then turned and ran back up the steps. Christa wondered briefly if she’d said anything wrong and then turned her attention back to the car. Soap suds had dried on the door panel and she cursed under her breath and grabbed for the hose.

Dean lounged in the living room, pretending to read car magazines while his eyes darted out the window every now and again. Christa was working on the passenger side of the car and she was giving him an incredibly nice show while bent over and scrubbing the lower panels. Sam had blown back inside minutes earlier, looking as red as a beet, and Dean could only imagine what had transpired out there. He finally got up and decided to step outside for some “fresh air.”

He sat at the bottom of the steps and watched Christa bop around to whatever mix tape Sam had made for her. He knew Sam made her one because he was keen on using Dean’s recorder several weeks ago. He thought it was cute that his baby brother had a crush on her because his efforts at wooing her had gotten nowhere. He knew he’d fucked up a couple years ago when he broke up with her without even getting to second base. Now he was watching her nicely round rear, hugged tightly by her jeans, bounce as she scrubbed the car to an impeccable shine while singing along to Tom Petty.

Christa was sweating, despite the relative coolness of the day. She stood up, wiped her forehead, and dropped the sponge into the bucket. Using the hose, she rinsed off her hands and put her thumb over the opening and misted her face. It felt really nice. She sprayed her neck in the front and back, shivering a little as the cool water trickled down her chest. Grinning, she wondered if Sam had made the mix tape especially for her, since it seemed to include all of her favorite songs. He was a sweet kid and she was lucky to have him as a friend – and she’d meant what she said earlier. _If he wasn’t so young_ … she let her mind wander about what he might look like when he was more grown up. All that she could picture was Dean with darker eyes.

The mix tape ended and the Walk-Man’s stop button clicked. Christa went to press the rewind button when a voice from behind her said, “You missed a spot.” It wasn’t deep enough to be John and she really hoped some weird guy wasn’t out here watching her hose herself down. She turned around and sighed when she saw Dean sitting on the steps, smirking, his green eyes bright in the early afternoon sun.

“Mind your own beeswax,” Christa fired back at him as she clicked the rewind button down. “Lazy ass. You should be helping me.”

He threw his hands up and shook his head, “Hey, I wasn’t the one who took the car for a drive. This is all you, sweetheart.” Christa rolled her eyes at him. “By the way,” Dean said, his smirk getting a little more devious. “Nice show. If I pay extra can I get more of the hose action?”

It took a lot of willpower to not march over to him and start beating the living shit out of him. She turned her back on him and resumed soaping the back fender. She was almost finished washing – then came the waxing. “As if. Go play with yourself,” she waved him off.

Dean sat there and watched her for a couple more minutes before he headed inside. Christa sighed; she had actually hoped he’d come out here to help her since he got her into this mess. But of course he wouldn’t help her – he was Dean Winchester and if it didn’t benefit him, he didn’t partake. She mumbled a few more choice words about him as the tape finished rewinding. A brief thought occurred to ask Sam for another tape but she really liked this one, so she hit the play button and started dancing all over again, vaguely aware of being watched.

When she was done with the car, it gleamed like the day it rolled out of the factory. Christa smiled at her hard work and imagined herself behind the wheel someday, driving down a lonesome highway with nothing but loud music and the wind in her hair. Maybe Sammy in the passenger seat, singing along with her.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot story. It was difficult not writing smut but I figured I'd try something tamer.


End file.
